


Loyalty

by VaerellisKing



Category: Final Fantasy VIII
Genre: Angst, Eventual Relationships, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Injury Recovery, M/M, Romance, Sad, Yaoi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-07
Updated: 2015-05-27
Packaged: 2018-03-29 11:11:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,938
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3894187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VaerellisKing/pseuds/VaerellisKing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Irvine Kinneas had never been so worried in his life. Never.<br/>But watching Commander Squall Leonhart – his Squall Leonhart, - lay so still on<br/>that bed, so pale and stiff, he couldn't be anything but a worried mess."</p><p>Squall's badly hurt. And all Irvine can do is wait for him to wake up. It's no issue for the sharpshooter. He's got all the time in the world. Especially for his Squall.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

It was cold. Despite the window being pushed open, allowing the warm sun to filter through in a golden waterfall, it was still cold in the dimly lit room. A heavy, thick cold that made it seem like it was hard to breathe when it wasn't really hard to breathe at all.

Maybe it was the unsteady beeping of the heart monitor that echoed in an unpleasant monotone that made the chill seem so claustrophobic. That's what Irvine had decided, as he sat hunched over in the uncomfortable chair he had pushed up close to the bed in the middle of the room.

"Come on, darlin'… you promised me that dinner out, right? My choice on where we go. You promised me. Don't you dare back out on that now." his southern drawl faltered slightly as his hand reached out to hold the bruised one in front of him. "…Squall, if anything wake up and tell me I'm an idiot for remembering such a stupid little thing at a time like this…"

No response, as expected.

The sharpshooter sighed quietly and took off his trademark cowboy hat, balancing it on his knee before he slid off his coat, draping it neatly over the back of the chair he sat on. Then he proceeded to mess with a loose strand of auburn hair that had come free from his ponytail between two fingers, his other hand still gripping onto the bruised one. His deep blue-purple eyes stared at the figure on the bed.

Irvine Kinneas had never been so worried in his life. Never. But watching Commander Squall Leonhart – _his_ Squall Leonhart, - lay so still on that bed, so pale and stiff, he couldn't be anything but a worried mess.

The Commander – no, Squall, he wasn't just a commander – looked so… helpless. So vulnerable. Squall and vulnerable never went into the same sentence. If it did you were saying how he was anything but vulnerable.

But now, as he watched the younger SeeD sleep, Irvine's whole image of the lion-hearted gunblader cracked into pieces.

No one would expect to see Squall in such a susceptible state. No one would expect to see him wrapped up in so many bandages and hooked up to so many monitors. He was unconscious to the point where you could scream in his ear and he wouldn't twitch. It wasn't right. No one in a million years would think to see him like that. No one, because it seemed almost impossible. Squall looked and went about like he was invincible – and he kept that up so expertly.

It broke the cowboy's heart to look at the already-red cloth that wrapped tightly around an ugly and deep wound on Squall's torso, to look at the countless bruises and other bindings on different wounds scattered on his arms and legs. It broke his heart so much, to see his Squall Leonhart in so much pain despite the sedatives pumped into his bloodstream.

It broke his heart to think he couldn't help his Squall in any way but to sit there and cry.

The sharpshooter could hardly keep his tears at bay as he gripped the scarred brunet's hand tighter, heart twisting in a pain.

With a quiet sniff and desperate breath, he brought Squall's paled, bruised knuckles to his lips and gently pressed them together in a soft and pleading kiss. "…promise me, darlin', that you won't leave me all alone. You got that? Forget dinner, Squall, you promise me you won't leave me all alone and I'll take you to dinner instead. Anywhere you want to go, just you and me…" he lowered the younger SeeD's hand and rubbed his wet eyes, sniffing again. "Just you and me, darlin'… but you have to wake up first…"

Squall didn't move a muscle, the heartbeat monitor still beeping in a wavering beat. His pale face remained smooth and somewhat relaxed, eyebrows slanted just slightly towards his scar so it looked as if he were scowling.

Irvine's eyes closed, heavy with sadness as he rested his arm and head on an unoccupied space on the bed. His thumb stroked Squall's fingers gently, careful not to agitate the purple and black bruises adorning them.

He stayed like that for a while, listening to the lion-hearted gunblader's wheezing breath and occasional whimpers. He stayed like that when the doctor came in to do a few more tests, and when Zell and Selphie and Quistis came in to check up on their Commander. He even stayed like that to miss dinner, just to be next to his brunet in case he would happen to wake up.

He didn't.

But the sharpshooter refused to move away from his Squall. He would sit there to the end of time and beyond if it meant not leaving him alone like that.

Irvine Kinneas was loyal to Commander Squall Leonhart and wouldn't dream of leaving him.

And so he didn't.


	2. Chapter 2

Squall didn't know where he was or what was happening.

The last thing he remembered was that he was fighting some deformed beast alongside Irvine and Zell, trying to distract it from Rinoa. He recalled there was a flash of light, and then Seifer was there, and then he remembered shoving Irvine back for some reason.

He felt like he was floating. There wasn't anything he could make out around him. Just darkness and warmth. He could feel a dull ache somewhere distant, but he was too detached from everything around him to pinpoint it. He didn't know what was happening, but one thing stuck out in his mind.

He was lonely. This warm darkness did nothing for comfort. It wasn't unnatural for him to feel alone, but this loneliness... it struck into his core for some reason. He wanted to see something - _someone_ \- outside of this blanket of no light.

He could hear a muffled voice somewhere in the distance, though. He knew someone somewhere else was keeping him from being alone, but he couldn’t figure out _who_ they were or _where_ they were. He could hear the desperate note in the person’s voice and he wanted to wake up and reassure them he was okay.

Squall Leonhart was lonely, and he wanted to stop being lonely. He wanted to see someone, something, anything. Loneliness plagued him many a time, but never before had it been this noticeable. 

Squall wanted to wake up from whatever dream he was floating in. And he was going to do just that.

-

Irvine jerked awake when he felt the figure in front of him stir. It was only the twitch of his hand, but Squall _moved._ He hadn't moved for weeks. He sat up, staring hopelessly at the gunblader through worried eyes. Gently grabbing Squall's hand, the sharpshooter intertwined their fingers. "Squall?"

The bruised hand of the Commander twitched again. He remained still for a minute longer, and Irvine's heart jumped when Squall lightly squeezed his hand and moved his head to the side with a very soft groan.

"Squall?!" Irvine stood up slightly from his sitting position on the chair, leaning on the bed. The sensation of relief shot up his spine and he stared at the Commander's scarred face.

The gunblader gripped a tad tighter onto Irvine's hand, eyebrows furrowing just a bit. "...'vine..." he rasped in a voice just under a whisper. Glazed over stormy grey eyes cracked open a tad, for a mere second, before they closed again due to the pounding headache currently occupying his mind. He could feel Irvine pressing closer to him, he could feel the relief flooding off the cowboy in waves.

It was a comforting sensation. He wasn't alone anymore. He knew he wasn't, but he wanted to make sure it was real. He wanted to make sure Irvine was really _there._ His eyes opened very slightly again, a little more this time. It was dark in the room, faint moonlight illuminating the surrounding areas just slightly. Even in his blurry vision, he could make out the dark figure of Irvine leaning over him. Turning his head, Squall focused on their hands.

The cowboy felt tears spring to his eyes and he rested his other hand on Squall's shoulder. "Hey, I'm right here. Take it easy, okay? I'll get the doctor,"

Squall instantly shook his head, letting out a small whine. He tightened his grip on his hand as much as he could, wanting him to stay. Opening his eyes a little more, he moved his glassy gaze up to the sharpshooter's face. The look of pure relief and affection in those blue eyes made him smile somewhat.

“Okay. I’ll stay,” Irvine sat back down and carded his other hand through Squall’s hair, very gently. He smiled very slightly, eyes welling with tears. He was so relieved. “Squall, darlin’, you feel okay?” he asked softly.

The gunblader shook his head a bit. He was sore, but be knew Irvine was aware of that and was asking for any deeper pain. He reached up slowly and pushed some stray hair from Irvine’s face, tucking it behind his ear. He noticed the sharpshooter had dark rings under his eyes and was looking a tad out of it.

“…’ve you been sleeping?” he rasped very softly, voice still not above a whisper.

Irvine blinked and shrugged. “A little bit. I wanted to be awake when you woke up.” He admitted after a moment of silence. “I’ve been worried, darlin’.”

Squall grunted softly in response. He rubbed at his eyes and sat up a bit, wincing at the pain in his chest. He felt Irvine’s gentle hand push against his shoulder, wordlessly telling him to stay put. He sighed and obeyed, easing back down as a sudden blast of tiredness hit him like a train.

Irvine noticed the droop in the gunblader’s eyes and smiled lightly, tugging up the blanket a little further. “Go back to sleep, Squall. I’ll be right here with ya. Promise on me life, I do,”

The brunet turned his eyes up to Irvine and shifted to the side slightly, glancing at the space he’d just made, then back up at Irvine. When the cowboy blinked in confusion, Squall sighed and reached over, grabbing onto Irvine’s arm and tugging him towards the bed. “Lay d’n.” 

It took a moment for Irvine to understand that the slurred words were “lay down”, but when he finally did process them, he let out a soft chuckle. With a slightly amused sigh he obeyed, kicking off his shoes, before crawling into the bed beside Squall. Careful not to agitate the wounds on the Commander’s body, he cautiously slid under the covers, comfortably resting on his back. Squall let out a soft snort and shifted closer to the new warmth.

“You sure you feel okay?” Irvine asked again, casually shifting his arm so it served as a pillow for Squall and he was more comfortably sprawled out. “Anything really hurtin’? Unbearably?” he turned his head and gazed at the Commander’s scarred face, before glancing down at the bandages securely against his torso. He chuckled lightly, because Squall was started to doze off, his stormy eyes drifting closed and struggling to stay open.

“No.” Squall mumbled out, shaking his head a bit as he shifted closer to Irvine. “’m fine…”

“Alright.” Irvine smiled lightly and closed his eyes as the Commander did. “…sleep well, Squall.” He hummed gently. When he didn’t get a reply and he opened his eyes again, he grinned. Squall was already asleep and snuggled securely against him.

“I’ll be here when you wake up.” Said the cowboy, before drifting off himself.

**Author's Note:**

> I don't own anything. Obviously. If I did these two would be best friends.


End file.
